


All that once was, remains.

by countrygirlsfun



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alive Hale Family, Alternate Universe - Medieval, Alternate Universe - Royalty, Based on a Tumblr Post, Fluff and Angst, Hurt Stiles, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Misunderstandings, Poisoning, Prince Derek, Prince Stiles, Servant Stiles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-14
Updated: 2016-03-14
Packaged: 2018-05-23 15:15:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,873
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6120616
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/countrygirlsfun/pseuds/countrygirlsfun
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Life is only a long list of constants. </p><p>Being a part of a royal family, being a prince, has been a constant in Derek Hale’s life since he was born and swaddled in silk cloths.</p><p> </p><p>Wherein Derek finds himself in love with a stable boy who is more than he seems.</p>
            </blockquote>





	All that once was, remains.

**Author's Note:**

> Long ago I saw this [post](http://www.acountrygirlsfun.tumblr.com/post/81508856194/dylanships-handsobrien-teen-wolfstiles/) and started writing. 
> 
> 2 years later and I went back to it and finished so here it is :)

Life is only a long list of constants. A person’s station in life, their vocation, the society they keep, their opportunities for happiness are all attributed through the randomness of their birth. Being a part of a royal family, being a prince has been a constant in Derek Hale’s life since he was born and swaddled in silk cloths. As a child in the middle of his parent’s lineage, Derek Hale is neither first for the throne, nor the first to be married off in some border alliance.

His life is an aimless one. He has no drive to study policy, nor to socialize among the court. He simply trains with his knights, spends time with his tutor to appease his mother and enjoys being around his family. Even his training is superfluous as the Hale kingdom has enjoyed a long and lasting peace spanning generations. The closest the Hales came to war was the Argent issue. However, once Lord Gerard and Princess Katherine were proven insane and disavowed by the rest of the Argent family, the talk of war and retaliation ceased.

Most days Derek does not mind this purposeless life. He always has nice clothes, the best food and drink, a soft bed to sleep in and a happy family around him. But occasionally Derek finds annoyance in what his mother requires of him. Namely, socializing at the balls she throws in the castle.

There is the nobility from their kingdom, nobility from other kingdoms, other royal families, those who claim allegiance to the Hale kingdom; the variety of the people he meets does nothing to increase Derek’s wish to mingle with them. He has met many people in his eighteen years, none that he has any reason to remember.

But every time his mother decides the castle will be opened to outsiders in order to entertain them, Derek is forced to sit through _etiquette lessons._ Derek loathes these lessons in particular. He always feels too big and ham-fisted around the dainty dishes and glassware. His hands seeming too calloused to hold someone for a dance. His words are always awkward at dinner and during the ball whenever he endeavors to engage in conversation with someone outside his family.

For no reason in particular Derek decides that the lessons today have been enough. He stands while the tutor is mid-speech to leave and ignores the man’s calls to return. Instead Derek goes to his rooms, paces for a few minutes until he decides he has to get out of the castle. Increasingly Derek has felt trapped within its thick strong walls and he suddenly needs to escape its confines.

He finds his most worn, dirtiest hunting garb and hopes he can at least pass for a castle servant. Though he knows he’ll never look like the commoners he passes when he leaves the city on horseback for hunts. Once satisfied with his disguise Derek employs all the secret passages he knows of and leaves the castle. His only goal being a long walk and fresh air.

>>><<< 

Life as a servant in the Hale kingdom is a dull constant. Since the day he was discovered in the woods bordering the kingdom Stiles’ place in life had been decided. He grew up in the house of one of the castle’s healers; treated as a son under the care of Madam McCall. He grew up with more good fortune than most peasants in the kingdom. Madam McCall, being connected to the castle in such an intimate manner, lived a life with sufficient food and shelter while avoiding physical hard labor. As her son he was entitled to a life of servitude working either as an apprentice to the physician Deaton or laboring for another noble in the King’s court.

Stiles’ brother, Melissa’s true son Scott had a stronger proclivity towards healing and medicine than Stiles could ever muster. Stiles could not take away Scott’s chance to do something with his life that had meaning. Stiles did not need that to continue living, did not need a greater purpose. He simply required that his clothes could be cleaned, a safe place to sleep and something to keep him busy between his visits to the wolves.

He only has vague memories of his time spent in the woods with the wolf pack before his rescue by a hunting party. But as a child he regularly would wander into the forest in search of the creatures. Now he manages every few weeks to finish his duties in Lord Whittemore’s stables in order for him to spend a few days at a time with his pack.

Working in the stables is enough for him to devote his time to. The tedium calms his mind, the solitude suits his temperament. He is neither forced to interact with anyone outside the other household servants and his family nor is he under any expectations beyond doing his work. Many households expect much more from the servants but Stiles has not so much as been summoned to view a single royal processional.

Even being raised in a home directly connected to the royal family, Stiles has had minimal involvement with the inhabitants of the castle and he has done nothing to change that. He has no disdain for the royal family however he has no wish to interact with them either. He has no reason to pursue any type of relationship, even one of an admirer.

He spends his days caring for the four horses in the Whittemore stable as well as the tack required for their proper use. It is not hard work but it keeps him occupied to the point that he sometimes has to prolong his work in the stable to keep time passing. It is during one of those brief repasts that a stranger stumbles into the room, frightening the Lord’s oldest, most beloved mare.

“Hey,” he cries, jumping up to calm the startled creature before turning to the man.

His beauty is the first thing to catch Stiles’ attention. The man’s dark hair and sharp features easily make him one of the most attractive people Stiles has ever made the acquaintance of. He takes in the quality of the man’s clothes, worn but carefully mended. The man has to work inside the castle walls to own clothes such as those.

“What are you doing here?” Stiles demands and the man adopts a bashful expression.

“There was a former admirer in the street I did not want to face. I need somewhere to hide for only a moment; I do not wish to bother you, though, I can leave after they pass by.”

Stiles regards him with suspicion. The Lord Whittemore and his family have been away from the house, choosing to spend the summer months in their second home in the countryside away from the noisy, smelly city surrounding the castle. But since they have gone, they took the majority of the household staff. Only Stiles, a house maiden and a cook remain to manage the house so there is really no one to know and reprimand him for housing this man, even for a moment.

The man’s pleading expression forces Stiles’ decision.

“You would not be a bother,” he settles on and interestingly enough, the man’s shoulders sag in relief.

“I do not think I have ever seen you around town before,” Stiles continues as he walks back to where he made a comfortable place to sit out of bales of hay.

“I work in the castle,” the man replies quietly, staring at his fingers intertwining with themselves.

“So why are you not working in the castle right now?”

“I finished my duties for the day,” the man responds but it sounds more like a question than it does a statement.

Stiles stands again and approaches him, eyebrow raised in skepticism.

“It is only gone ten in the morning, you have finished everything? Are you sure you are not shirking some of them in favor of wandering around outside the castle confines?”

The man raises an eyebrow right back at Stiles, and unfortunately, does it better.

“Like you were not shirking duties of your own as you sat in the hay?”

Stiles laughs brightly, glad for the playful banter instead of a rebuff.

“How shall we spend our time then, if we are not going to do our work?”

He finds himself newly interested in the idea of passing the time with another person. Especially if the person is as bright and beautiful as this man. Stiles finds out his name is Derek, no doubt named in honor of the prince; he seems to be around the same age Stiles knows the prince to be. Despite enjoying his time alone, away from other servants and people outside his family, Stiles realizes he does enjoy Derek’s presence. He enjoys the easy conversation that flows with jokes and flirtation and laughter.

Derek must enjoy it too, because a week later Stiles is graced with his presence again.

>>><<< 

Derek thought he must be mad to imagine he could keep up his unexplained disappearances from the castle. Yet somehow, he has managed it. Every few days Derek escapes his responsibilities and finds pleasure from Stiles’ company. The more he goes the more things they talk of. Despite their talk of the kingdom, Stiles’ master, the royal family, somehow he manages to keep the fact that he _is_ the royal family from coming into question.

The day Stiles kisses him is both the best and worst day. They have built up to it, easing into more serious conversation about themselves, introducing careful touches. Stiles kisses him like he has been holding himself back, but also with a hesitancy from a lack of practice in the activity. Derek is not any better. If Stiles was not a commoner and Derek was not a prince, Derek would have succumbed to the desire to hold him much sooner.

The progression from kisses to fumbling caresses to falling onto a hay filled mattress together is so natural and right that Derek cannot do anything but go along with it.

Soon they are spending more time being intimate with each other than they are talking but neither complains. The time he spends with Stiles in his arms before, during, and after their activities is time better spent than any of Derek’s other undertakings. Soon their meetings are not just a weekly occurrence but nearly every other day. The longer it goes on the more Derek wishes he could tell Stiles the truth of who he is.

It hits him one day, after they are both spent and sated and lying in the sunshine breathing heavily. As he takes in Stiles’ beauty, especially like this with the sun warming his eyes to a molten copper color, the shadows playing on his pale skin that is now covered in Derek’s marks, he thinks he might have gotten himself in trouble. He thinks he might love Stiles the stable boy.

Which is of course when it all falls to pieces.

Derek not only misses their next planned rendezvous but has no hope to escape the castle at all in the near future. It seems that while Derek was avoiding things in the castle, his duties were not avoiding him. The plans for the Hale family and the Argent family to finally end their differences in a more significant way have come to fruition: a marriage between the Argent heir and Derek.

When the Argent family rode into the town, Derek and his mother joined the procession as they made their way to the castle. It was like every other procession Derek has been a part of with exception of two things. This processional is complete with not only announcing the Argent’s arrival but also that the royal families will be having a Hunt. A royal hunting party only has one prey: the wolves in the surrounding forest. The other difference is that this time, as they passed the Whittemore house Derek looked to the crowd of people. The worst thing imaginable happened: he saw Stiles and Stiles saw him.

As soon as the procession is over Derek runs to Stiles' home with the McCalls to try and talk to him. But Stiles will not even open the door. Derek tries to apologize but as the word “forgiveness” starts to fall from his lips the door opens suddenly to reveal Stiles with Scott standing composed behind him.  

Stiles is calm and this is Derek’s first warning. Stiles is never this composed. Derek has witnessed too many angry rants about things as meaningless as a dirty saddle, a mangled bridle. And Stiles is never static either; he is always moving and pacing and using his hands to emphasize his many words in conversation. Derek knew how to counter those behaviors, mainly kissing him still, but he does not know how to face this. Being faced with a Stiles who stands with arms crossed across his chest and a blank expression is frightening enough but then he’s speaking; cold, firm and resolute, eyes glinting in anger.

“I cannot fathom what your motive would be in doing this. I may be a peasant but I am worth more than being a meaningless plaything to a prince. I thought you knew the wolves’ importance to me, the fact you either didn’t notice or are disregarding it further proves your insincerity towards me. Even so, even when I mean nothing, you shared your own opinion on the matter of the Hunts. How can you concede that and agree to actually participate? Do not try to seek my forgiveness again.”

And with that the door is shut in his face before Derek can even begin to explain. Stiles throws himself away from the door, past Scott and into his room. He just could not bear to hear whatever excuse Derek had. He wanted nothing more than to cling to his anger to try and forget the gnawing hurt. Scott however, heard Derek sigh and lean on the door before speaking again.

“Stiles you were never meaningless. You have to know how much I… I will find a way to stop it. The Hunt, the marriage; because you are right, it goes against what I believe. I was going to try and tell you who I was, I just had not figured out how.”

He knew he would not get a response, not today at least. But Derek was not done trying. He would somehow fix all of this and somehow earn Stiles forgiveness. He walks away from the McCall home to his chambers with a resolve he has never felt before.

Derek did not know what he was supposed to do first. He has had duty and honor drilled into his mind for as long as he could remember. Do what is best for the country. Uphold tradition. Clearly what was best for his country was to use this arranged marriage to bring a more solid peace to the two nations.

After a few days of being forced to spend time alone in the company of Allison it became clear that neither of them really wanted this. They wanted peace and the honor of doing what was right but both of them knew they would never be happy together. It would not be anything like the love they witnessed between their own parents.

Why could they not choose their own happiness?

Derek had found it in Stiles he realized, real happiness. The way he made Derek want to be better. To act on his own standard and ideals. To challenge tradition where it lacked relevance and reason.

He’d rather forge a truce with Allison than a marriage to gain peace between the neighboring countries. The more time they were forced to spend together the more they devised their own plan for how to bring such a truce about. The only missing piece was how to avoid the marriage and before that even, The Hunt.

The night before The Hunt was supposed to occur Derek finally managed to retire from the company of his parents and the Argents. He easily made his way past his personal servants to go out of the castle walls towards the McCall house. He ran to Stiles’ quarters first, bursting through the door calling out his name. When he found it empty he turned and ran to where he knew Stiles would be working. Before he could cross the yard he heard Scott behind him.

“He is not in the stables.”

“Well where is he?” Derek nearly growled as he turned to face him.

Scott gestured for the prince to follow him back inside Stiles’ part of the house. Once the door was fastened Derek questioned him again in earnest; adopting his demeanor he had previously reserved for the court or with his family.

“Where is Stiles?”

Scott gave him a look of annoyance before he averted his gaze; mocking in his deference.

“He is in the woods, your majesty.”

“Oh my- Scott speak freely, now what are you withholding from me? Where is he?”

“He is off with his wolves.”

Derek turned to leave, to go chase after Stiles, but Scott grabbed his arm.

“Stiles’ trips to the woods are almost exactly the same length every time. And if he thinks it will take longer he will tell me. He told me to expect him gone for three days. It has now been four. It will be concerning if he hasn’t returned by the time you and your ostentatious hunting party leaves in the morning.”

Derek tries to leave again.

“Der- Prince? What are you going to do?”

“Find Stiles or stop the hunt. Hopefully both.”

“How?”

Derek walked out the door muttering, “I have no idea.”

Later he returned to his own room and collapsed on his bed. He had been unable to dissuade the court from the Hunt. He was just going to have to do something during the Hunt to make sure none of the wolves were hurt. What he really did not know was how he would find Stiles. Sure they had talked about his pack but he never went into where the pack was or how he found them on his visits. He lay in his bed and tossed and turned as his worry and stress ate at him all night long.

He had slept hardly at all when his servants came in to rouse him and get him ready for the hunt.

The hunting party included himself, Allison, his mother and her father as well as a few knights. The small group rode through the streets but Derek saw nothing of the fanfare that sent them out to the forests. They were all armed with bows and arrows. The knights and Derek carried their swords as well despite their uselessness in a hunt of this kind.

The party was led by King Chris and Allison who trailed after their dogs. Then came Derek and Queen Talia who were followed by the knights. They rode at an easy pace following the dogs. It took no time at all for the dogs to find a trail but they were trained well enough that they followed the scent slowly. Only when the wolf’s scent became fresh would the dogs- and the hunt- take off.

They rode in silence for the most part with occasional conversation between the knights or Chris and Allison. When riding in a party like they were it is difficult to hear the conversation of those in front of you or behind you. So each person is resigned to converse with the person riding next to them.

Derek had always been regarded as the quietest of the Hale children and he was used to his mother granting him the privilege of easy silence. He was surprised then when she broke the quiet with a simple statement that made Derek’s heart race.

“You have been strangely absent lately, Derek. You spend time training with your sister and you spend a small amount of time with your tutor but no one knows what you do with the rest of your days.”

Derek tries to school his expression and simply raises an eyebrow to his mother. She laughs lightly at her son’s persistence in silent communication.

“Inquiring minds want to know where you are for all that time.”

Derek just shrugs his shoulders and hopes his mother won’t continue to ask. Because how is he to explain that he had been spending time away from the castle and its rules and expectations and ended up falling in love?

Oh god. He really is in love. How did he not see this so much sooner? And why does it make everything that is currently happening so much the worse for it?

Surprisingly the queen allows the conversation to cease and the quiet ride through the woods continues. Chris turns back to tell the group the trail has picked up after another few long quiet moments; they will be on the chase soon. But as they pause to talk Derek thinks he hears something in the underbrush coming towards them. Soon the dogs’ ears are perked up and the whole group is waiting, bows at the ready, for something or someone to come bursting through the trees. The noise moves slowly and sporadically but it doesn’t take long for a person to stumble into their midst. All the weapons get trained on the person but one.

"Stiles!” Derek cries as he recognizes him, “Lower your weapons all of you!"

Derek slides from his saddle and runs to catch Stiles before he can fall to the ground. Stiles loses his footing and trips right into Derek. Derek brings them both to the ground slowly and watches Stiles’ eyes fall shut.

"Stiles? Stiles talk to me. Say something," Derek pleads nervously, thinking Stiles has lost consciousness.

"Derek?" Stiles mumbles back, lifting a hand to feel Derek’s chest solid beneath him.

"Yeah it is me. Stay awake, Stiles!"

Derek shakes him slightly but it makes Stiles groan and squeeze his eyes shut tighter.

"I am tired Derek," he says weakly, but sounding more awake.

"I know,” Derek tries to sooth and Stiles finally opens his eyes at his quiet tone, “what happened to you?"

"A wolf," Stiles whispers softly, sounding reluctant to admit it.

Derek leans closer to answer just as softly, "Was it your pack?"

Stiles smiles at the gesture, "No, it was a lone wolf," he answers, hesitating before he continues, "my pack is safe."

"Derek?" his mother calls to him from atop her horse still.

Derek looks up at the confused faces of the hunting party all staring at the two of them.

"Yes, mother?"

"You know this boy?"

Derek looks back at Stiles feels the edges of his mouth turns up in a smile reflexively. Talia notices.

"Yes, mother."

"Is he hurt?" she prods, sounding at least somewhat concerned.

"Where are you hurt Stiles?" Derek asks as he runs his eyes across Stiles’ body looking for injuries. He finds more than he would wish to; shallow scratches on his arms, deeper gashes on his legs and something deeper at his hip.

"Scratches and bruises,” Stiles admits, “A bite on my hip is the worst I think."

Derek pulls Stiles’ shirt up slightly to look at the wound more fully.

"He has been attacked by a wolf and needs the physician mother, yes."

"Alright, Chris, Allison? Care to continue the hunt alone with a knight to guide you back?"

"We'll find the lone wolf and return with its pelt," Chris answers solemnly.

"Good, Sir Lahey? Would you help my son with the young man?"

The tall, fair haired knight dismounted and strides quickly over to Derek and Stiles. He picks Stiles easily from Derek's arms and waits for direction.

"Am I just that skinny or are you that strong?" Stiles slurs tiredly.

Derek can’t help but smile as Isaac laughs, "both."

Even injured Stiles’ mouth does not stop. Derek swings himself back up into his saddle and moves as far back into it as he can. Then he turns his horse homeward before tying the reigns to the saddle horn until he has Stiles in his arms.

"Sir Lahey? He will ride in front of me so I can hold on to him better."

Derek smiles again and Stiles’ cheeks go pink as he blushes slightly. Probably because he will end up sitting across the prince’s lap as they ride back to the city.

Queen Talia simply watches and says nothing of her son’s behavior. She knew this boy was more important than a simple servant. With help from Derek, Sir Lahey managed to get Stiles situated on the horse before returning to his own. Chris and Allison and two other knights had already left to continue the hunt. As soon as Queen Talia saw the boy up close her curiosity was piqued. He seemed more able to speak now that he'd caught his breath and was resting against her son. She gave him a few minutes to recover before she started asking any questions.

"What did you say your name was, child?"

"Stiles, your majesty," he responds quietly, keeping his gaze lowered.

"And what are your parent’s names?"

"I don't have parents ma'am,” he explains evenly, “I was found in the woods when I was a young child and have been cared for by Madam McCall ever since. I know nothing of my parents or how I came to be in the forest alone."

"Hmm Melissa? She works with the physician Deaton in the castle?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"And you work in the castle too?"

"No ma'am I care for the stables of Lord Whittenmore."

"Dreadful man."

Derek, who previously had been worried at the two actually conversing, smiled at the comment. Whatever snark Stiles had planned on getting into his conversation with the Queen might be replaced with respect now. A fact he was sure of when he felt Stiles hide his smile into his shoulder. The Queen slowed her pace to match Derek's instead of riding more in front of him and asked another question.

"Can you open your eyes and look at me?"

Stiles obliged, wincing as he sat away from Derek.

"How old are you?"

"Twenty years old ma'am, at least that is based on being found at age three."

The Queen nodded her head like that was what she expected. She rode on ahead of them and Stiles and Derek shared a confused look before Stiles laid back against Derek's chest again.

The Queen addressed the knights accompanying them back to the town.

"Who among you is the fastest?"

"I am your majesty," Sir Lahey replied.

"Sir Lahey, I ask that you ride ahead to the city. Tell the King to send word to our neighbor King Stilinski. He should come to us as soon as he can. I think we have found his son."

Derek heard none of this and right in the moment he had Stiles where he could not get away, so he was just going to have to listen to Derek explain.

"Stiles, I am sorry."

Stiles surprisingly just nodded into his shoulder.

"I am sorry too, for being an ass,” Stiles admits. “It does not change our situation though. You still have to marry Allison."

"I am working on a plan for that," Derek responds sounding less than confident.

"You? Making plans? Lord help me," Stiles chides sleepily.

Derek tightens his grip around Stiles as he leans more heavily into Derek’s chest and falls asleep. Thankfully his horse has not been bothered by the extra weight and the precarious arrangement as they plod their way back home. It is only a moment later and he sees Isaac riding swiftly away from the rest of the party.

His mom slows again to ride next to him and Stiles.

"Mother? Where is he off to?"

"Do you remember the story we told you growing up of the missing prince? King Stilinski's only son was stolen from his castle after his wife died and was never seen again. His wife, Queen Claudia was a close friend. That boy you love has her eyes. He looks just like his mother."

Derek knew his mother was perceptive but he blushed and ducked his head nonetheless.

"What do I do, mother? I want what is best for the country but I do not love Allison. I love him."

"Maybe you can do both. We will find out when King Stilinski gets here."

"I beg your pardon?”

"Your father and I would much rather have an alliance with the Stilinski kingdom than the Argents. We had planned a marriage between our children before he was lost. Just because it is you and not Cora does not make it any different."

Derek couldn't keep his hope from soaring at his mother’s words. They made their way back to the castle quickly and Stiles was taken to a room near Derek's to have his wounds treated.

>>><<< 

When Stiles wakes up, it is all very confusing. He is lying in a bed much softer and better smelling than his own. His body feels sore, like he and Derek had one too many rounds in the hay. But the pain sharpens when he shifts in the bed making the memory of how he was injured come flooding back in. He squeezes his eyes shut tighter, trying to block out the memory of the wolf tearing at his flesh.

Stiles only notices his chest is heaving and he is writhing on the bed when someone gently holds his shoulders down onto the bed.

“Calm down, Stiles. You are going to reopen your wounds,” a calm, familiar voice says trying to soothe him.

The door slamming open has Stiles’ eyes snapping open reflexively in surprise. Things start to make sense when he takes in his surroundings and his breaths calm when he sees Derek entering the room.

“Prince I thought I asked you to stay out until he had woken up and been tended to,” the physician, Deaton, reprimands Derek.

But Derek is not having anything of it as he strides in the room and kneels on the side of Stiles’ bed opposite Deaton. He gently holds Stiles’ hand where it rests on the bed; giving him a look of such concern Stiles cannot stop his heart from warming. Deaton rolls his eyes.

“Stiles,” he says again, gaining Stiles’ attention away from Derek’s worried expression, “You are going to feel rather sluggish for another hour or so. I needed to give you a draught so you would sleep through the pain.”

The calm, steady tone of his voice keeps Stiles from panicking as he discusses the injuries Stiles suffered.

“You are going to need to rest a lot over the next few days and I will be in to check that nothing is infected and is healing satisfactorily during that time. I am sure you will have the very dedicated care of the Prince to keep you well attended.”

“Thank you, Deaton,” Stiles responds quietly and the man quirks a small smile down at him in response.

“I will leave this ointment here on the stand; if your wounds start to itch use this to ease the irritation. Do not scratch them.”

Stiles nods solemnly and Deaton places the container on the little table that is next to Stiles’ bed before he leaves the room, closing the door behind him as he goes. It is then that Stiles turns his head to see Derek still kneeling on the floor and still looking exceptionally worried.

“Hey, I am okay Der- uh, your highness,” Stiles corrects himself only to have Derek shakes his head and start to stand.

“Move over,” is all he says though as he helps Stiles shift over in the bed so there is room for the two of them.

“Why does this seem so improper now when a week ago this felt like the most normal thing in the world?” Stiles asks, voice coming out slow in the effort to say so many words at once.

Derek does not answer until he has gotten himself comfortable on the bed, tenderly putting his arms around Stiles’ body.  

“I do not care if it is improper. I thought- I thought I was going to lose you.”

Stiles does not have a response to that because he cannot be sure that he is not already lost to Derek. He is a prince and Stiles is a commoner. Although, if the queen is correct, Stiles is maybe a prince too.

“Derek, why, um, why does the queen think I am a prince?”

Stiles can feel the prince stiffen next to him but Derek does not pull away just sighs in something close to exasperation before settling even closer into Stiles’ side.

“My mother used to tell us this story when we were little and we would wander away from our nurses. Growing up my mother had a best friend. She was the daughter of one of her kingdom’s nobility and they were ‘thick as thieves’ in the castle. As people do, the girls grew up, mother married to a prince and so did she.”

“Obviously you know, my mother married the prince to the Hale kingdom but it was your mother that was her friend and was married to your father, the prince and heir of the Stilinski kingdom. Apparently, some people in his kingdom disapproved of his choice in wife. But as prince regents are wont to, he did what he wanted.”

“They had a few good years before she became pregnant, then their lives were complete. A son grew into a babbling toddler and the country rejoiced in the heir’s health. It was then that the queen fell ill. The same day she took their son to the fields next to the castle to frolic was the day she succumbed to the illness and their son was lost.”

Derek’s voice grows quiet as he ends the tale and Stiles looks up at him to see his sad expression.

“I have seen her portrait since we returned from the forest,” he tells Stiles seriously. “Your lovely eyes, and your smile, they are hers. I do not doubt that you are the lost prince, Stiles.”

Stiles is silent then, taking in this new story of his origins. He always knew he was not born of the wolves that brought him to the Hale kingdom. His mind was not drawn to such fantasies. But he always thought he had to be born of common folk to have been forgotten and lost to a forest. To wrap his mind around the possibility that Derek’s story is true? That is going to take more than a single moment of quiet introspection. One thing becomes alarmingly clear the more he accepts the account as truth.

“King Stilinski is going to take me away,” he says abruptly and Derek tightens his arms around Stiles reflexively.

“If he recognizes you as his son lost these last sixteen odd years, I would not find blame in him wanting to have you safe and in his home once again.”

Before Stiles can become indignant or disappointed he continues.

“However, that does not mean that I will not miss your company here. Indeed, if those events should take place, I will beg my mother to allow me to accompany you back to the Stilinski kingdom. Ties with the Argent family have been suspended given your miraculous appearance. I will not be marrying Allison.”

“No?” Stiles asks, voice small and hopeful despite his efforts to keep it even.

“No,” Derek responds firmly.

Things are far from perfect. Stiles his healing from his attack. He’s going to have to deal with possibly meeting his real father, who is a king. But for now he is in Derek’s arms in a comfortable bed. Everything else can wait until after they rest.

 

 >>><<<

 

Stiles wakes with a gasp, his chest heaving, hands gripping the soft sheets beneath his fingertips. Sweat drips down his forehead, makes his back feel damp under the hot press of the blankets. The night is still dark around him, the fire burning low in the fireplace just enough to see around the room. Stiles heaves a sigh and rolls over to light the candle next to his bed and grabs the pile of parchment that is always on the stand for his perusal.

It has been nearly half a year since he was brought to the Stilinski kingdom, to his future kingdom. He has written Derek constantly, sending letters before he gets a response from the last. But it is not the same; he misses him intensely.

Initially when Stiles was returned to his rightful kingdom his time was spent being groomed and taught the ways of the court. He met his father’s court, his new wife and the princess. If Stiles had even the vaguest of memories of the place and of his parents he might have felt some resentment toward the king. It is obvious to even Stiles that he had remarried very shortly after the loss of his first wife and they had reproduced as soon as possible.

Princess Lydia is more frightening than even the Hale matriarch was to live in the same castle with. The princess while rather petite in stature makes up for it with her intelligence. It is clear that she has spent the entirety of her life being prepared to run a kingdom, only to reach maturity and have it torn away from her.

Only a month after he arrived though, Stiles started feeling poorly. Most everyone attributed it to the change in his diet, that the rich foods he was now given to enjoy in the castle were such a difference in what he had spent his life eating. But as the days turned to weeks his poor stomach grew to include whole body aches that kept him bedridden most days. And the nightmares, like the one he just woke from, the nightmares that rip him from his slumber have persisted through all the remedies his father’s physician has created.

Most nights the nightmares are vague and abstract but still frightening enough to rouse him from his sleep. The worst nights are when he dreams about Derek. Because it is never about Derek coming back to take him away from this kingdom that has no need for him. It is always the same, he is home, lying sated and happy with Derek on Stiles’ old straw mattress next to the stable. In the dream Stiles is always taken from the bed, from Derek’s side and Derek does nothing. He just melts away as Stiles travels through his dream far from that happy spot. Waking in a kingdom many miles from the prince he fell in love with hurts deepest.

As Stiles starts to rifle through the letters he keeps at his bedside he cannot help the melancholy feeling in his chest. He knows if he were to read the most recent of the letters he would find Derek’s missives threatening to come retrieve him. But that is simply all they were: threats. Derek will not be able to come rescue him and Stiles is either going to die at the hands of whoever is making him so ill or he is going to run back to live in the forest alone.

He cannot stand the idea of running a country. Especially not one that has grown to love and admire the princess so adamantly. But he does not know how much more of this he can take.

He sits in bed torturing himself by reading Derek’s words again and again until the sky outside the window begins to lighten. He stands and carefully shuffles towards the pot in the corner so he can relieve himself. It is taxing but he refuses to soil himself and the bedclothes so he makes the attempt alone as often as he can get away with. After dealing with things there he uses a hand on the wall to steady him as he walks towards the window.

As the light breaks across the castle grounds and the surrounding town Stiles cannot help but understand why someone would build their castle in such a spot. It is truly a beautiful portion of the Stilinski kingdom with the forest separating his land from the Hale’s to the east and open fields with rolling hills sprawling out to the west. It is pretty enough that should Stiles have no connections back in the Hale kingdom maybe he would be willing to stay in the castle as a part of the royal family and court.

He walks away from the sights of the town beginning to wake and start their work as his knees start to feel weak. He barely makes it back to the bed before he is too fatigued to move another inch. Instead he crawls under the soft covers again and attempts another few moments of rest.

Servants come in and out of his room through the next few hours. Changing his clothes, the bed clothes, emptying the pot and bringing him a tray of food for his breakfast. It is only after he has eaten and is resting, trying to read a book he had been given to expand his knowledge, that he hears people in the hall making noise.

He cannot hear what they are saying but his worry increases the closer the arguing gets to his door. He nearly jumps out of his skin when the door bursts open and Derek comes striding in, clothes dusty from travel. The physician Deaton is close behind him and sirs Lahey and Boyd keep themselves between the servants trying to stop the two men from entering room.

“Derek,” Stiles breaths in shock, “You are here.”

Derek stops at the edge of the bed, apparently having learned a certain amount of self-control as he simply reaches for Stiles’ hand instead of crawling up the bed as he once did.

“I told you I was coming for you,” he says seriously and if Stiles were standing he may have swooned. “You are unwell, so unwell that you have not left your quarters in a fortnight. So I have brought Deaton to find the truth of your illness whether natural or forced.”

Stiles looks at the man that he spent a large part of his childhood being underfoot of and feels incredibly humble that the man Stiles caused so much annoyance to would travel to care for him.

“Thank you,” he says quietly but the physician only smiles briefly.

“His highness only had to say the word and we left.”

Oh. Well. That is unexpected and only incredibly overwhelming. Instead of trying to express how he’s feeling Stiles chooses instead to close his eyes and rest his head back against the pillow. He can hear Deaton working at the table across the room and feels Derek brush the hair back from his forehead before leaning down to press a kiss to his brow.

“I’m not leaving here without you, well and free of all obligations to this kingdom,” Derek whispers and it takes all of Stiles control to keep the tears in check in response.

 

It takes Deaton less than a day to identify what kind of poison was making Stiles sick. But it takes the rest of the week to find who the poisoner was and why they wanted to poison him at all. Jennifer Blake, a witch with strong ties to King Stilinski’s father, the former king. She had taken offense to John Stilinski marrying below his station and being a disappointment to his father. She had set herself on a path to fix it shortly after the birth of the heir to the throne.

It was not easy, for Stiles or his father, to find out the truth of what had happened to Claudia and what could have happened to Stiles. But if anything, finding that he had been poisoned right inside the castle of his father, who was supposed to be able to keep him safe, made the desire to return to the Hale kingdom that much stronger.

Of course that desire was fueled by Derek’s presence as well. Having Derek close enough to touch, to talk to and to hold once again only made Stiles’ feelings for him more pronounced. They have not done anything like they used to back in Stiles’ bed but even getting to sit next to Derek, hold his hand and feel their sides pressed together has been more than enough. Derek wants to take him back with him to the Hale kingdom and Stiles could not agree with him more on that subject.

But in order to do that Derek insists that Stiles talk to the king himself about why he wants to leave. Stiles more than anything wishes for Derek to be there to help explain but he knows deep down that his father deserves to hear from him alone why he wants to return to the Hale kingdom.

So late in the evening, nearly two weeks after Derek and Deaton’s arrival, Stiles seeks out his father’s presence. He is made to wait in the outer chambers of the king’s bedroom until the king is ready to see him.

“Your majesty,” Stiles says softly as the King enters his chambers.

The man looks tired and Stiles cannot blame him. It has been an ordeal for more than just Stiles to be discovered as the lost prince. But the resigned look on the king’s face makes it easy for Stiles to voice his wishes. 

“Your efforts to connect with me were well intentioned. I would do the same were I in your situation. But though you are the blood from which I was made I cannot call you father. And this kingdom is not the place for me. You must understand that your house has no room for me.”

The king sighs at that but seats himself on the bench next to Stiles.

“I see the way it pains you to look at me,” Stiles continues gently, “Her majesty, Queen Hale told me of how similar my countenance is to my mother’s. I know, from the grief etched in your features when you look at me that your love for her was real and as deep as any love could possibly be. I do not wish to pain you further by remaining here.”

He feels as though his words are not enough, but he cannot stop voicing his thoughts now. He needs the king to understand that it is nothing against him personally. It is that this is not the place for him to be, not if Stiles wants to live happily.

“But that is not my only reason for not wanting to remain here. Princess Lydia is more suited to rule your country than I ever will be, you have to understand that. You thought me dead, I have no ill will against you for remarrying and producing another heir. But keeping me here any longer will only further fill your house with bitterness. Lydia, bitter for the crown that _should_ be hers. You bitter over the loss of your love and if I may be further honest? The longer I am kept away from _my_ love the more bitter and disagreeable I will become,” Stiles admits.

“I do not wish to poison your house in such a way. I fear our chance to be father and son has long since passed. I will not become a stranger to you if you allow me to return to the Hale kingdom. I shall write and visit frequently if you wish. But I cannot stress further my desire to return to what I know as familiar, to be able to return and be with the Prince again.”

The king drags a hand down his face tiredly, breathing another sigh.

“I know you have been unhappy here, poisoning aside,” he says in disbelief as if he still cannot fathom that it actually happened. “I do not wish to make you miserable but tradition says that my firstborn should be my rightful heir. That being said, this kingdom has long sought for a substantial method of improving our relations with the Hales. We have maintained peace for generations but it was decided when you were first born that an alliance would be struck.”

He pauses there and reaches out to lay a reassuring hand on Stiles’ arm.

“I would rather go against custom for you to be happy. The life you have had to live because of my mistakes, because I was not careful enough,” he stops to shake his head. “I could not deny your happiness, I do not wish to. If you and Prince Derek would grant me three visits a year here and one or two in the Hale kingdom I will grant my blessing for your marriage,” he says without any hesitation or begrudging.

“You will need to formally renounce your claim to the throne and giving Lydia your blessing would go a long way in securing good relations with her for the future when I am gone.” 

Stiles may have been schooled in proper protocol for dealing with the royal family these past six months or so. But that does nothing to stop him from leaning forward and wrapping his arms around the man next to him in an embrace. He fears his impulsiveness driven from his overwhelming relief and rush of happiness was inappropriate but the king pulls Stiles closer to him by wrapping his own arms around Stiles in return. In time, perhaps they will be able to form something of a relationship with each other. And as exhilarating as the thought is it pales in comparison to the fact that he can run to Derek and tell him of his success, tell him of their chance at a future together.

His father allows him to pull back from the embrace after only another moment.

“Thank you, sir. I do not wish to abandon you abruptly but-“

“Go to him,” John cuts in with a knowing smile. “He looks at you the way I used to look at your mother, and you do the same.”

“Truly?” Stiles asks, quietly but his father merely nods and places his hand heavy and reassuring on Stiles’ shoulder.

“That young man loves you, I could not stand in the way of such love even if I wished to. You may go to him.”

Stiles reaches forward for another embrace quickly, breathing out a brief, “thank you,” as he does.

He does not look back as he all but runs from the room to find Derek. They do not have any time to waste, Stiles has wanted to be rid of this kingdom for months. And though Derek has only been there for a fortnight himself, Stiles knows he wishes to return home just as much.

It takes another full week for all the necessary protocols to be followed. Stiles has to resign his claim to the throne, correspondence with the Hale family had to be made in regards to the marriage, and things and provisions were to be packed. Now though Stiles and Derek are riding in the carriage bound for the Hale castle at long last. Deaton chose to ride next to the driver, giving the princes some semblance of privacy within the thin walls of the carriage.

But it allows for Stiles to be tucked under Derek’s arm with no spaces between them, pressed in close to his love like he has longed to do for ages. Derek himself seems fairly content to rub his hand up and down Stiles’ arm idly as he hums a nameless tune, making his chest vibrate under Stiles’ cheek.

After some miles Derek breaks their peaceful silence.

“Are you sure this is what you want, Stiles? A life constantly a member of the royal family?”

Stiles snorts inelegantly and raises his head to look at Derek’s face.

“You mean as opposed to _not_ living as a member of my own royal family? If you doubt my love for you, you should not. Would it have been allowed, I would have stayed with you even if you were the prince and I the commoner.”

Derek does not argue any further than leaning down to kiss Stiles tenderly and rearranging them into a more comfortable position for their long journey.

Stiles knows there is much more to come for him in learning how to be a prince when he was never taught anything of the kind as he grew up. But as he slips into an easy slumber atop Derek’s chest his mind is already dreaming of the new constants in his life. He will always have enough food, always have a comfortable place to sleep and clean clothes to wear. He is going to get very bored not having his duties to perform.

But with Derek constantly around?

He has faith they will find ways to stay occupied.

>>><<< 

**Author's Note:**

> Let me know what you think! Thanks for reading :)
> 
> Come talk to me on [tumblr](http://www.acountrygirlsfun.tumblr.com/) :)


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